On the Trail of Deserters; A Phenomenal Capture

by Robert Goldthwaite Carter

Soldiers Not Born

It has been said that "artists and poets are born"—and "soldiers are made". True it is, however, that Soldiers are not born. There is not, and there never will be such a thing as a born soldier, not even in a hereditary sense. They must be trained. But—to educate and train a man to be a soldier certain basic elements are absolutely necessary. Ever since the world began, and hero worship and the cheers, applause and adulations were first bestowed on such warriors as Cæsar, Hannibal, Alexander and Frederick the Great, Napoleon, and on numerous other returning conquerors, it has become well known that certain elements or basic principles have been necessary upon which to build in order to develop and produce the really great soldier.

Taking the raw material to educate and train, it has been found essential that a man should possess one or more of the following requisites. Military bent, instinct or intuition— Military aptitude and spirit—and any one or all of these must necessarily be combined with good, sound, common sense. All, or any one of these elements must either be inherent or latent and ready for development—for it is—and has been found—absolutely impossible to develop these essentials in any one man by a mere process of military education or intensive training— Unless a man possesses one or more of these necessary requisites or material to work on, such education or training is so much wasted effort or labor lost.

It has frequently happened that men, without possessing any of these basic elements, not even military sense—or instinct, or the military spirit—have undergone a military education and severe intensive training to fit them for what they have been led to believe through their theoretical instruction are the problems of battle which they have got to face up to and overcome. Sometimes it has been found necessary that this initiatory effort shall be made on a real (not a sham) battle-field. The shock—the rude awakening, the stress, strain and disillusionment of real battle has then come with such a startling surprise to some men not physically up to a soldier's standard as to throw them off their feet—break them down before it is discovered that lack of physical strength alone debars them from the military profession, and so destroys their morale and esprit de corps as to render them unfit for further field service. The ever changing and rapid developments of battle are so great and constantly pressing that they call for all there is in any man—and in the twinkling of an eye; his cool courage—his level-headed judgment—his every ounce of resourcefulness—and instant decision is called into such rapid action and it is so quickly drawn upon as to afford no opportunity for much study, long deliberation, or the privilege of consulting with others. During this sudden trying out process—the most strenuous that can be applied to any human being as a complete test of the would be and so called professional soldier—he may develop just this lack of stamina and courage— Of what possible use then is the swivel chair soldier who, without military bent, instinct or spirit—the military coup d'oeuil or sense—rushes into battle only to find that it is not what has been described to him—that the spectacular and moving picture feature of it is all lacking—and that he is, in every sense out of place in command of battle service soldiers and an entire "misfit." Could anything be more pitiful or pathetic than to see an over educated, over trained soldier of twenty or thirty years' service who has never been "tried out" when he first makes this discovery? The writer has seen it! These men when faced up with responsibility, and an emergency, exigency or crisis arises—always "fall down". They are soon led to recognize their absolute unfitness for the military profession, for a military command or to handle any problem growing out of a military position requiring ripe experience along the lines of ready judgment, rapid action and quick decision. It is generally too late then, however, few having the good sense to recognize their failure and leave the service in time to avoid the disaster that is sure to overtake either themselves or the unfortunate men under their command and subject to their blunders and almost criminal short comings. This disposes of an officer's going into battle before he is ripe—or has been given the battle instinct and battle sense to try out his theoretical battle knowledge in the presence of any enemy on the assumption that the book knowledge he has gained has fitted him for such a test out.

Sometimes—all this effort to make a man a soldier who does not possess the necessary elements, is attempted through the "Plattsburg system" of intensive training with the same result— Again it may be tried through numerous service schools—the General Staff—the War College course, etc. But—eventually and inevitably without some one or all of these basic elements to build on—to unfold, develop and train whatever of the military spirit that there is in him, it will become necessary, sooner or later to eliminate him from the game—i. e., to "Can" him. The writer has scarcely ever seen it fail— And when there has been any exception to the rule through political pull or favoritism—and this incompetent, would-be professional soldier is retained, disaster has been written all over the pages of his unfortunate military career. All of our wars—the Civil War—Spanish-American—and now our great World War have clearly demonstrated this. It is pitiful therefore to see men struggling along in uniform—absolutely incapable of acquiring battle instinct or battle sense (simply because they cannot be taught) and the requisites for a rough and tumble soldier in the field, capable of commanding men under all circumstances of the emergencies and crises continually arising to test out a man's military resources—and his ready adaptation to the problems before him, etc.—because of the lack of just those elements that go to make up the ever ready soldier. The education of such men along military—but, more especially along the line of battle problems is an offense to the nostrils and a clear violation of common sense, besides giving most battle-service soldiers an indescribable weariness.

Courage Alone Not Effective

Courage, either in the Army or civil life, is a cheap commodity. Almost every soldier should and does possess it to a certain degree. All combative animals have it more or less. It certainly is not a rare virtue in our service. The man who does not possess it is an exception to the rule— The point is, however, whether he has that amount of physical and moral courage to a degree which, without common sense and the military spirit—would make his acts a military success. The writer thinks not— Too much stress has been laid on the mere physical brute courage of the soldier. Without it is combined with good military sense—it is doubtful if possessing courage alone could ever make a success of anything in which any of the military elements cited enter as a factor. Nothing so surprises a man of mediocre caliber—one who has been mistakenly or wrongfully steered into a military career without there being the slightest evidence of his fitness for it—one who has been stuffed full of the theory of war and of battle conditions, as to—suddenly butt up against the real article—a genuine wild-cat battle with all of its quickly varying conditions and phases. And by such a battle I do not mean one afar off; at some observation or listening post within sound of the guns—or in some bomb proof or sheltered dug out—where he can talk over the telephone; or look upon it as he would a moving picture—but directly on, or right in rear of an infantry battle-line under direct rifle, shrapnel, canister, or machine-gun fire—a bullet-swept field—such as many of us Civil War men saw on the battle-field of Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13-14, 1862. One hundred and fifty yards from the "Sunken Road"—at the foot of "Maryes Heights". With no cover except the shell-mangled, disemboweled bodies which we rolled up in front of us and used for breast works, behind which we sought the only shelter we had for 30 long winter hours in the half frozen mud—the plane of fire just grazing our heads on that bullet-swept terrain—and the bodies being whipped, frazzled and torn to pieces in front of our noses by terrific rifle and shrapnel fire as we vainly endeavored to relieve our weary frames by turning over from right to left or on our backs and stomachs.

That was a battle-field where the soldier not only had to use his courage, his wits and common sense, but all of his resources. He will doubtless discover in a few minutes that this situation and this crisis was not included in what he has studied and booked up as theoretical battle knowledge and does not apply or fit in to any battle scheme that has been—without consulting him—staged on his front—and particularly to such a frightful and perilous situation. Right here will come in his aptitude and true merit as a soldier—and his real practical test out. It applies to any other military problem where the element of common sense must enter as a determining factor. It enters into all walks of business where business sense is so absolutely necessary. It entered into this problem of the pursuit of deserters. All of our varied campaign and battle service, and experience and knowledge gained during that great Civil War—and our practical activities in scouting and campaigning after wild, hostile Indians subsequent to that war entered into this chase and capture, as Military factors—without which we would have been as helpless as two children.

Who could look ahead into that long, trackless, desolate hundred miles of thinly settled country—almost a wilderness—with small towns more than 40 miles apart—in the midst of a bitter cold tempest of rain, snow, sleet and ice—and rely upon any Service School scheme of study, or War College papers and compositions upon obsolete campaigns and battles—or any extended use of war games—annual maneuvers or sham battles, etc., things that many of our young officers have been fed upon for years to fit them for great wars, emergencies, crises, etc.—and predicted any success for either Lawton or the writer? Any experience (?) gained in such theoretical military knowledge as would fit into such a case—would have been about as effective for Lawton and myself as our study of the Sanskrit and Chinese languages.

It was a problem based purely upon military experience gained by hard knocks and campaigns and in battles—seasoned up with plenty of good, sound horse sense—combined with our battle discipline and morale; courage, resourcefulness and powers of endurance entered, of course, as factors. These were our guides. One's complete education, and years of the most violent intensive training ever devised by any military machine of West Point Manufacture would have accomplished absolutely nothing along the lines we worked to secure the unqualified success—that was expected and demanded of us by such an exacting soldier as Mackenzie. There was nothing the writer had so laboriously studied and learned in his course at West Point that could by any construction or stretch of the imagination, have fitted in, or been of the slightest use in this problem. No Mathematics—No Algebra with its "Binomial Theorem;" no plane Geometry with its fascinating "Pons Asinorum"; No Trigonometry with its sines and co-sines; no Descriptive or Analytical Geometry with planes of reference, etc. No Calculus with its integrations and differentiations; or equations "A" and "B". No Spherical Astronomy with its "Polaris"—or projections of the Eclipse; No Optics or Acoustics. No spectral Analysis. No trays of Minerals—with the blow pipe and testing acids to determine "Fools Gold" or Iron Pyrites from the real article, would have fitted one for the real acid test when the most critical stage of the game—confronted him. Neither would the perfect tactical drills—magnificent parades and inspections which have so delighted foreign visitors and the American people who have a right to be so proud—as the writer is himself—of our great National Military Academy—probably the finest Academy in the world— But—and here comes the crux of one's best endeavors along military lines where complete success is the goal—the education the writer gained during that Civil War—the daily experience—the frequent campaign and battle tests—the self control—the patience—the confidence—the discipline and morale, tried out as in a crucible—the strength, steadiness and tenacity of purpose under battle conditions—with rifle, shrapnel and canister fire—for there were no machine guns or grenades in those days—in such battles as Bull Run—Antietam, Fredericksburg—Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, etc., and the influences which they wrought upon one's character in later years to deal with things that to some men would appear to be simply impossible—all these combined with the true military spirit—and good, common sense were the determining factors in that strange adventure so far as they are able to guide us in this mysterious and complex game of life—or can enter into the human problems in which we engage and are ever attempting to solve to our satisfaction and credit. Such was the philosophy and logical reasoning of we two "hold overs" of the Civil War, as we plodded our weary way across the black prairies—in the howling "Norther"—in our pursuit of these deserters. Little or no thought was given to the training received at the Military Academy beyond a well nourished pride in its motto of "Honor—Duty—Country"—the balance was in our pride as battle-service soldiers of the Civil War—and all of our knowledge and experience gained thereby—but especially so far as the writer was concerned to a short period of service at a huge conscript and "substitute" camp[B] where he acted as a provost guard—and as a young detective among many deserters from every Army and Navy in the world—hardened and desperate criminals of the worst description—intent on receiving a large bounty only to desert at the first opportunity and enlisting at another rendezvous—repeating this trick ad libitum. Here was real human character depicted in its worst forms of iniquity—depravity—greed—selfishness—low cunning—trickery, treachery—atrocity—and the most desperate crimes—not stopping short of black-jacking—garroting—sand-bagging—robbery and frequent murders. To mingle with them was to know their types—their methods—habits, resources, etc. All this knowledge was of incalculable value to the writer when the plunge was made into darkness and the depths of an uncertainty—of an adventure the outcome of which could be but problematical or only to be guessed at.